


An Awful Mess

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: wizsprogs, M/M, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Wordcount: 5.000-15.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus didn’t realize it was possible for boys to get pregnant, so when he starts having symptoms, he ignores them at first until the thought starts to occur to him. But acknowledging his situation means all sorts of trouble, like coming out to his friends, family, and the whole school, not to mention dragging his boyfriend out of the closet as well. It means deciding what to do, when he’s only sixteen, and still has the rest of his education to finish out. And it means that both he and Scorpius have to live with the ramifications of every decision that they make from this point forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** #148 (teenage pregnancy) for crazyparakiss
> 
> JK Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter, and the characters. I’m just writing here for fun.

Albus Severus Potter had surprised everyone when he sorted Ravenclaw upon his arrival at Hogwarts. He wasn’t a Gryffindor, like his brother before him, or a Slytherin like his sister who came later. He was the quiet one. The bookish one. The one who looked forward to gifts from Aunt Hermione because he wanted to own things like _Seventeen Ways to Properly Preserve and Utilize Dittany_.

Al was the sort of boy who would settle in for a comfortable evening of reading next to his cousin Rose, curled up together on the common room sofa and comparing notes on things they never needed to study, but wanted to learn anyway.

But not tonight.

Tonight he had taken over the high wing-backed chair next to the fireplace, his knees bent and feet tucked up under him as he read, as if he could curl in on himself and disappear.

“What are you studying tonight?” 

Al slammed the book shut, thankful he’d thought to put a befuddlement charm on the cover. He smiled at Rose. “ _Quidditch: A Keeper’s View of History_.” It wasn’t that, not at all, but that ought to at least distract his cousin. This was one time when he might be able to use the help, but didn’t want it at all.

She frowned, leaning in as she tucked a stray copper-coloured curl behind one ear. “It looks awfully old to be Quidditch.”

It looked old because it was old. Terribly old, and musty in a way that made Al sneeze. It was also from the Restricted Section, and he wasn’t supposed to have it. “It’s not old, it’s well-worn. Probably every Keeper who’s come through Hogwarts has read it,” Al said, the lie tasting sour on his tongue. There weren’t many people he hated lying to, but Rose was definitely one of them. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to share this yet.

But she was tenacious, and instead of leaving, as he’d hoped she would when he brought up Quidditch, she grabbed the book from his hands and opened it. Her brow furrowed quickly. “Albus Severus Potter, why are you reading—”

He yanked the book back, glaring at her. “It’s none of your business.”

But Rose had gone pale beneath the freckles that dotted her cheeks. She leaned forward, whispering, “Who is she?”

Al’s cheeks coloured brightly. “Let’s take a walk.” He tucked the book under his arm as they headed out into the hallways. Al started heading towards the Astronomy tower automatically, but veered off once he realized where he was going.

At least Rose waited until they were clear of any places they might be overheard before she grabbed his arm and yanked him to a stop. “Albus Severus Potter.” She glared at him, so reminiscent of Aunt Hermione that Al cringed. “What girl have you gone and gotten pregnant? I didn’t even know you were _dating_ , let alone _shagging_ someone.”

“That was kind of the point,” Al muttered. “To keep it a secret. We didn’t want everyone knowing what was going on. It would’ve made things even more complicated than it already was.”

He felt bad as soon as he said it, Rose’s expression crumpling with disappointment. “I thought we were friends,” she said quietly. “Why couldn’t you have said something?”

“You wouldn’t have understood.” Al crossed his arms tightly, hugging them in to his chest. “No one would.”

“She can’t be that horrible.” Rose tried to reach out for him, but he stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “I trust you, Al,” she said softly. “If you love this girl enough to have sex with her, then—”

“It’s not a girl.” Al blurted the words out. He looked at the floor, at the wall, at the fascinating sconces and torches that flickered without ever seeming to burn out. “He—and me—we—” He flushed scarlet, unable to get the words out, even though he _knew_ Rose had to be making some kind of assumption. “And now I think I might be—”

“Pregnant?” Her eyes went wide and surprised. “Al, do you know how _unusual_ that is? It almost never happens, maybe one time in a thousand, and even then it takes careful preparation and planning and—”

“And my dad’s Harry Potter, the man who made miracles happen,” Al said miserably. “So I guess this would be a miracle, if it’s happened. Dad’s going to kill me.”

He waited, watching, emotions flitting through Rose’s expression too quickly for Al to catch hold of any one of them in particular. It was a lot to assimilate. That Al was gay, to start with, although Al wasn’t sure it’d be all that much of a surprise. He’d never dated a girl, after all, and have managed to avoid everyone with the mistletoe last Christmas.

He watched as she sighed, taking a deep breath. “Well then, we’ll just have to figure out how to tell for sure. That’s what you were working on, wasn’t it? I can’t think of any other reason you’d be reading the _Purebloods and Wizardly Reproduction_ chapter of the _Medical Mysteries of the Wizarding World_ book, after all.”

Al nodded, relieved that she hadn’t asked what he had figured would be her first question. “There are spells in there for telling whether a Wizard’s pregnant or not. And symptom lists and timelines.” Because things were complicated, and Albus couldn’t even think what he’d done to make himself potentially fertile.

Rose took the book from him and opened it to one of the pages he’d marked. “Younger wizards are more likely to conceive than those who are past their middle years.” She peered at him over the edge, and Al flushed. “Did you use contraceptive charms?” she asked.

“I um—I didn’t even realize a bloke could get pregnant this way,” he admitted. “It never occurred to me until I overheard Mum telling Dad something about her Great Great Great Uncle Damocles, and I remembered that this was what Victoire was like. Sicking up all the time.” He blinked as he saw Rose reading one page with interest. “You don’t have to go over the symptoms,” he said hurriedly. “I’ve got them all, except for swollen feet. But the rest, yes.” He was scarlet to the tips of his ears, thinking about what some of them were.

“I think I’ve done spellwork similar to this,” Rose mused. “In Creatures class, when we were breeding our Crups. Can you wait another day to know for certain?”

No. Yes. Merlin, he just wanted this over with, but instead, Al nodded slowly. “It’s already been about six weeks, I’m thinking, if I guessed right,” he admitted. “My trousers have gotten a bit tight.”

Rose carefully set the book on the floor and reached for him, and he held on tight, needing that comfort right then. Easily upset and prone to tears or hysteria—that was one of the symptoms, and Al fought back tears and mentally checked it off. Again. He most definitely had that particular symptom and was bloody well sick of it already.

He blinked and swallowed hard. “Thanks, Rose. I just—I didn’t know what to do.”

“You can always trust me,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “We’ll get this sorted. But Al—”

He glanced over at her. “Yeah?”

“If you’re pregnant, eventually you’re going to have to tell me who the father is.”

And that would be the question Albus hadn’t wanted to answer just yet. “If I’m pregnant, I will,” he said quietly. Because maybe he was dying instead, and wouldn’t have to admit to a relationship that he _knew_ none of his relatives would approve of.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the smell of the Dingus Root. When Albus had collected the root, dried and unpeeled, it hadn’t looked or smelled like much. But the potion called for it to be grated into the mortar, then ground together with ginger and Lingonberries. As soon as Al started to grate it, the scent rose sharply into his nose, turning his stomach with a violent twist.

Hands turned to fists, leaning on the tabletop, eyes closed and pressed tightly against tears of embarrassment that threatened to come up. He felt like everyone in the room was looking at him. Everyone could see that he was going to be ill and everyone had to know why. Even though it was impossible, Al was sure they knew.

“Give me that.” A hand reached over his shoulder, taking the grater and root away. Al could still smell it, but it wasn’t as sharp, or as close, and he wrestled his stomach under control.

“Thanks,” he muttered without looking up.

“Hey, send that over here, Malfoy!” Zabini’s voice, calling out, laughing. “Looks like Potter’s already started the work for us.”

“Leave off,” Scorpius snapped, and even without looking, Albus knew how he was glaring. Knew that sharp, piercing gray gaze of his was leveled at Mario Zabini, and that Scorpius was reasserting his authority.

Scorpius set the grated root down on Al’s table, far enough away that it wasn’t right in his nose, and Al just kept trying to breathe. What he wanted to do was lean back, feel the touch of the boy standing behind him, almost close enough but not quite. He wanted to turn into his arms and cling to him and cry. Bloody hormones.

“You all right, Potter?”

Albus gritted his teeth. “Fine, Malfoy.” He couldn’t be familiar, not now. Not here. Was Rose watching them? Did she guess? No, this wasn’t out of the range of normal for any day, was it? Scorpius was always an interfering arse.

“You might want to go see Madam Pomfrey,” Scorpius suggested mildly. He picked up the root and pushed a measure of it off the grater into Al’s mortar, and the rest into his own. He handed the pestle to Al. “Either that, or start grinding. But if you’re going to sick up, you should go.”

“I’m not going to sick up.” A lie, since the longer he stood there, the worse he felt. But Al coudn’t tell the truth, either.

“It’s that or pass out cold on the floor,” Scorpius said. There was a flash of worry, and Al tried to smile. “You’re paler than Peeves.”

“I’m fine.” 

Scorpius counted out five Lingonberries into Al’s mortar, and a shaving of ginger, and nudged it towards him before taking care of his own. “Of course you are. Everyone knows that _Potter_ translates to _too stupid to fall over when already dead_.”

Al shot him a look. “And every one knows _Malfoy_ is the word for _stick up his arse_. So? Just go be sanctimoniously helpful somewhere else. I’m not interested.” He pressed his lips together, torn up on the inside, but he knew the fight was necessary. If they fought in public, just like they always had, no one would even think that they were involved privately. Right?

It wasn’t that Scorpius was a bad bloke, either. It wasn’t like the way their dads had fought, back when they were at Hogwarts. Scorpius was a prick sometimes, but not all the time, and he wasn’t evil. And Al was more stubborn than stupid, and had a bad habit of being overly helpful, even when not needed. Or wanted. They’d found themselves at odds, competing in classes from the beginning.

Until they’d had a chance to talk while working on a project in the early days of the year.

Until Scorpius had kissed him while they sought constellations for Astronomy. And Albus had kissed him back.

“It says grind to a paste, not liquefy,” Scorpius said, shaking Al out of the memories.

Albus flushed as he looked down at the sorry looking paste in his mortar. “Hopefully it’ll still work. I think I’m allergic to Dingus Root.”

“You’ve used it three times at least since our first year,” Scorpius countered. “You’ve never gone white over it before. I think you’re just afraid you can’t do this nearly as well as me.”

Everyone else had forgotten them by now, assuming they had slipped into their usual competitive roles. Scorpius leaned on the table, his elbow dangerously close to Al’s as they spoke. Al couldn’t look at him, not when he hadn’t said a word yet about his fears. Instead, he twisted away, scraping his paste into the cauldron and carefully stirring it five times clockwise, adding a twist of his wrist, then twice counter-clockwise. He dripped in four tiny droplets of _Efficar Serum_ and stood back, watching to see if it turned a proper shade of cerulean. Or at least blue of some sort. Right then, Albus would have been happy with any shade of blue.

“Careful you don’t break your potion, Potter.” Scorpius nudged him. “I wouldn’t want you to have to redo it and miss out on all that important revising you’re always doing.”

Sky blue, so pale it was almost like ice, but there was something blue coming out in it. Albus wondered if there were a way to fix it, but they hadn’t made it to fixing broken potions yet. That was during their last year of NEWT level Potions. And he hadn’t read ahead far enough in the books yet.

“It’s just Astronomy tonight,” he replied, still focused on the cauldron. “I’m going up after the fifth year class finishes up around ten.” It was a code, Albus knew, with Scorpius asking where he’d be that night, and Al answering. The Astronomy tower was where it all began. It seemed only right that it be the place where this came out, whatever this was.

“Astronomy isn’t a subject you have to revise terribly much,” Malfoy snorted. “There are stars. Make up a few good stories about how they fit together and it’s an easy NEWT.”

“Is that why you’re taking it?” Al snapped in reaction to Scorpius’ dry tone, even if he knew Scorpius actually enjoyed the class. But Scorpius pretended so many things, and it was wearing to deal with it all, and Albus was sick of it. He was sick of everything right then, this Potions class included.

His cauldron had cooled, the liquid in it a pale shade of blue with shimmers of aqua in it. Very pretty, but nothing like the book, and he didn’t think he wanted to test it by taking a sip. Especially if—

Merlin. What would Potions do to a baby?

Al’s stomach clenched, as everything washed over him. The idea that he might be pregnant, mixed with the idea that he could be hurting it with testing the Potions he made, but then on top of it the horrible guilty realization that a part of him wondered if that would be better if it made him _not_ pregnant any more.

He was wrong, he knew. And a terrible person.

And most definitely going to sick up.

Al clapped a hand over his mouth and rushed out of the room without a word. He heard a commotion behind him, and Rose’s voice rising over everything else, assuring everyone that she’d take him back to his room and make sure he was all right, and that it was probably something passing through.

Passing. Right. In nine months.

What was he going to do if he was pregnant?

He vanished the mess and leaned against the wall, head back, waiting for Rose. She handed him his books, then gave him a hug. “Come on, let’s get you back to our tower and take a look at you.” She smoothed his hair back from his face. “I’m beginning to think you’re right.” A small wry smile at that. “Your dad’s going to freak. But I’d be more afraid of your mum. Her and my dad have tempers, don’t they?”

Albus swallowed hard, imagining the Howler he’d get if this made it home. “I don’t even want to think about it. I need—I need them not to know. Not until there isn’t anything to be done but dealing with it.”

Rose slipped an arm around his back and tugged him down the hall. “Let’s go find out what we’re dealing with.”

Al went with her, but he had a feeling the point was moot. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that question.

All the spells were going to do was prove he was pregnant with Scorpius Malfoy’s baby.


	3. Chapter 3

In the middle of the day, it wasn’t possible to find an empty classroom to use for their spellcasting. But with everyone else out in classes, Rose was able to sneak into Albus’ dormitory so they could work there. And if anyone happened to catch them and assume the worst of them, well, it wouldn’t be the first time someone had thought something was going on between the cousins.

“Lie still,” Rose admonished. “I can’t do this if you keep wiggling.”

“I can’t lie still if you keep tickling me with the wand,” Albus protested.

“I’m not even touching you!” Rose stopped and stood there, hands on her hips, glaring at him. “I’m holding it exactly two point three inches above your skin, moving it at a precise speed over your abdomen. All you need to do is lie there quietly so your breathing and movement doesn’t interfere.”

Albus closed his eyes, wishing this were overwith. “I can feel it. When you do that, it’s like I can feel your wand on my skin. I don’t like it.” Truth to tell, he’d been skittish about anything touching his belly for the last few weeks. Even Scorpius had noticed, although it hadn’t slowed them down much when they spent time together.

“Well, if you could possibly _hold still_ , it’d be all over and you wouldn’t have to do it again,” Rose grumbled. She pressed on hand against his chest, pushing hard until he stopped wiggling as she moved the wand. She had to circle his abdomen three times, until Al felt like someone had drawn a tight ring around his gut, while she whispered the words of the spell. At its finish, he felt it tighten, then sink warmly into his skin.

“Well?” Albus leveraged himself up on elbow and looked at her curiously.

“Now we wait.” Rose settled herself on the bed next to him, fingers splayed against his skin. “If you’re not pregnant, you’ll stay normal. If you are, your skin will change colour. If the spell’s able to tell what sex the baby is, if you’re far enough along, it’ll be either pink or green. If it’s blue, that means you’re less than four weeks pregnant. The darker the colour, the further along you are. There’s even a chart.” She paged through the book until she found the part she was looking for and laid the open book on the bed between them. “They used to use blood in the spell, which made it work faster, but it wasn’t actually any more reliable.”

“You’re better at this sort of spellwork than I am,” Al admitted. “I couldn’t figure any of it out.”

Rose flushed, pleased at the compliment. “Well, I do want to be a healer. This is the sort of thing I’ll be doing all the time someday. Although possibly with animals instead of people. Creatures don’t complain nearly so much.”

“No, they bite.” Al had to laugh at her outraged expression.

“They don’t bite _me_ ,” she protested. “Not a one of them ever has, even the most nasty tempered of the crups.”

It only took a little more to get her telling stories from her Creatures class, stories that made Al laugh and took his mind off of what they were waiting for. Until the door to the dormitory opened and he heard Scorpius say, “Al? Why’s your stomach green?”

Albus pushed himself to sitting quickly, grabbing at the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming up to see you. I’m skiving off class, figuring you might want some company while you’re not feeling well.” Scorpius shut the door behind him. “I managed to convince one of the first years to give me the password into Ravenclaw.” His gaze shuttered as he looked at Rose, and Al looked between the two of them. Scorpius was closing off, and Rose was staring, mouth slightly open.

“It’s him,” she said softly. “He’s the dad.”

Scorpius blinked. “The what?”

Rose wasn’t looking at him any more; she was focused entirely upon Al’s stomach. She had the book in hand and was comparing the page with his skin, a frown marring her forehead. “If the colours in the book haven’t changed, I’d say you were off in your estimate, Al. According to this, it’s about fourteen weeks, which would explain why your trousers have gotten tight. You’re right at the point where you’ll be starting to get bigger.”

If he survived the next few minutes, that was. Al felt like someone had vanished the air from his lungs, and he coughed, choking. It let him break his gaze away from Scorpius, looking down as he pulled his knees up, curling around himself. He’d wanted to tell him alone, to break it to him carefully. Or maybe figure out what to do and not tell him at all. He hadn’t wanted to see that cold Malfoy veneer that he saw now, as Scorpius hid whatever he was feeling behind a thick emotional barrier. Al gasped for breath, breathing it out again slowly, hands twisting in the sheets. 

“Fourteen weeks?” He tried to think through it, think back to when that was. “That’d be… December. Not long before we went on holiday.”

“…You’re pregnant?” Scorpius’ tone was flat. Dead.

Al swallowed hard and nodded without looking at him. “Just figured it out. That’s why I—”

“That’s why you’re ill. Of course.” Dry and emotionless. “I suppose you’ll be wanting something to help you handle it. My father won’t deny me any gift of money, so it would likely be far easier for me to finance the procedure than you.” Scorpius gave him a small, tight smile. “Unlike your father, who seems to enjoy being all too involved in all of his children’s exploits. Do you know that he came to speak to our house after Lily’s punishment?”

What did Lily’s punishment have to do with anything? Yes, Albus knew that after his sister had been caught selling exam answers (just the once, she claimed), their father had come into the school to talk to her personally, even after punishment had been assigned by the headmistress, and points deducted from the House. “He’s that kind of father,” Albus said, tone twisting at the end angrily because Scorpius’ bland demeanor upset him so much. “He actually _cares_ about us.”

Scorpius smiled. “And mine cares about me, I assure you. Now, when do you think you’d like to get this done?”

Get it done? Get _what_ — oh. Albus curled protectively around himself, snapping, “Get out, Scorpius.”

“It’s only a question, Potter.”

Albus reached for the little box that sat on his nightstand, throwing it as hard as he could at the other boy. He grinned tightly when it hit him in the shoulder, and Scorpius took a step back towards the door. “I said _get out_. This is my decision to make, and it’s _my_ baby.  You can just sod off if you don’t care what happens to it.”

When Scorpius opened his mouth, the door behind him opened, and an invisible force shoved him out, the door slamming closed as soon as he was gone. Rose smiled, pleased with herself, and put her wand away. “He’s not good enough for you,” she said, settling back on the bed, one arm going around Albus’ shoulder and pulling him into a hug.

“Doesn’t stop how I feel about him,” Al muttered. “Stupid prick. Except I love him. Lily was going on all about how incredible he is over the Christmas holiday. She has a fancy for him, and I kept wanting to shake her and tell her to back off, because he was mine. He’s been mine since October.  Except now he—” Tears rose, pricking the corners of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “Sodding hormones,” Al muttered.

Rose hugged him tight and rubbed his back. “We’ll get it sorted, Al, I promise.”

“But right now, no one can know,” he told her urgently, worried that she might want to get an adult involved. “We keep this just between us, right?”

She kissed his cheek. “Just between us. I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

Three weeks later, Albus waited until everyone else had gone down to breakfast and carefully spelled his trousers larger. He went for more than he needed, lengthening his belt as well to help hold them up in the meantime. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this hidden beneath his robes, but in two more months it wouldn’t matter for Hogwarts at least, since he’d be going home.

He and Rose had worked out the dates as best they could figure, and his due date was late August, just before his seventh year began. He’d realized that if he was at all late, he was going to miss most of the first half of his year, not to mention trying to figure out what to do with a baby.

If he kept it. Which was a decision Albus hadn’t even come close to making yet. Rose kept telling him to talk to someone so they could discuss his options, but Albus wasn’t ready. The nausea was finally fading, and he was on an even keel. Mostly. As long as he didn’t think much about Scorpius.

Which meant that Potions, Charms, Astronomy, and Transfiguration were all difficult classes to get through.

He’d been paired with Scorpius for Transfiguration that day, and it was the first time they had interacted since Scorpius had walked into his dorm three weeks before. Even then, they were oddly silent as they worked, despite Zabini’s suggestions for Malfoy to turn Potter into a newt.

They took turns with the mouse in a cage, Transfiguring it into a bat, then a rat, then back into a mouse. After the first return to mousehood, Albus leaned down and observed it closely. “Not a whisker missing. We’re good so far.”

“Of course we are. We’re the tops in the class,” Scorpius pointed out.

“You should have been a Ravenclaw.” It was an old argument, comforting in its familiarity, even if it wasn’t entirely friendly.

Scorpius shrugged. “My father would have been disappointed. I’m fine in Slytherin. And can you imagine us as roommates?”

Unfortunately, Al could. Easily. He could imagine what Scorpius would be like if he didn’t have to keep up appearances in front of the other Slytherins. He could imagine late night study sessions, and long involved conversations. He could imagine sneaking into Scorpius’ bed, and having the luxury of lying there quietly all night. He could imagine a lot of things, but he said none of them, simply raising one shoulder and lowering it in a half-shrug.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be an Animagi?” Scorpius mused. A flick of his wand in careful pattern, and the mouse transformed into a bat.

“Sometimes,” Albus admitted. “Not right now, though.” He didn’t think it would be _safe_ right now, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud, not when neither of them had brought it up. “It might be something I want to study in the future.”

“After Hogwarts?” Scorpius laid his wand down, pinning Albus with a look. “You’ll have to _finish_ Hogwarts then, won’t you? That might prove difficult if you don’t return in the fall.”

Albus clenched his teeth. “I’ll be coming back in September.”

“I can do math, _Potter_.” Scorpius stressed the name. “I’m well aware just how busy you’ll be.”

“We’re not talking about this now, Malfoy,” Al muttered.

“We don’t seem to be talking about it any other time, either.”

“And whose fault is that?” Albus’ voice rose sharply as he glared at Scorpius. “I’m not the one who’s been avoiding me for three weeks now!”

“Careful, Scorp, sounds like Potter’s got a bit of thing for you,” Zabini called out, laughing.

Scorpius ignored him, facing Albus directly. “I’m not the one who threw me out,” he countered. “I’m not idiot enough to go back where I’m not wanted.”

“You said—” Albus cut himself off, because that wasn’t what he wanted to shout in front of the entire class. “It doesn’t matter,” he spoke as carefully as he could. “I’m doing this my way, and I don’t need you.”

“I should have a say in it.” Scorpius reached out to grab Al’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “It’s my b—”

Albus twisted away. “Don’t say it. We are not talking about this here.”

“Fine. You know where to find me later if you want to talk then.” Scorpius grabbed his wand and walked off, ignoring the professor’s order to return to his partner and his work. “I’m feeling ill,” he called over his shoulder as he exited the room. “I’d best lie down for a bit, until I’m better.”

“Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Patil snapped.

Al felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he pressed his lips thinly, refusing to let them come out. Was that it? Was it over? His winced, gut clenching in uncomfortable ways as he leaned forward, head against his hands.

“Mr. Potter.” Professor Patil laid her hand upon his shoulder, and when he glanced up, she smiled gently. She had been a Ravenclaw, he remembered. Or was she the one who’d been a Gryffindor? No, it had to be Ravenclaw, since she was head of house now. It was all the stories his parents told that confused him sometimes.

“Do you need to step out?” she asked.

He blinked at the unexpected question, and at the sympathy clearly writ in her gaze. He shook his head quickly. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” Three times, to convince himself maybe. Because he had to believe it, or he’d never get through.

He finished the assignment on his own, making careful notes of what had worked, and what variations hadn’t. A part of his mind was still thinking about Scorpius’ question about animagi in the back of his mind, despite himself, and he added thoughts on that in the margins of his notes, just in case they ever spoke again. Or rather, in case they ever spoke in a civil manner. Albus had no doubt they would speak. He just wasn’t sure he could stop them from arguing.

Rose met him at the door, linking her arm through his and walking out with him, past Zabini and others who were waiting. They slid past, under Professor Patil’s watchful eye. Rose waited until they were well away before speaking of anything other than the assignment.

“Someone’s going to guess, Albus,” she said quietly. “You have to tell someone. If it gets back to your parents and you’re not the one telling them, they’ll have fits. The whole castle will hear the Howler when your mum sends it.”

“No matter how they get told, Mum’ll be sending that Howler, I’m sure.” Albus crossed his arms as if hugging himself tightly. “Once that happens, the whole school will know. And if Scorpius keeps talking like that, about me not coming back in the fall…” Al shook his head. “Did you hear him? He almost said _baby_ right there in the middle of class, with everyone listening.”

“Al—” Rose’s hand fell against his arm and he turned to look at her. “It sounded like a lover’s quarrel,” she said softly. “You should be prepared there’ll probably be rumours. I already heard Catherine and Sylvia whispering during class, and they sent back a note to Eloise. You know she’ll talk to everyone in Hufflepuff.”

“And by dinner the whole school will think I’m gay.” Albus stopped walking, leaning back with his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. “Merlin, Rose, what am I going to do?”

“You _are_ gay,” she pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I want everyone to know it. Or that Scorpius and I were dating.”

“They’ll just wonder about your taste.”

He gave her a dark look. “Scor’s not like you think he is. He has to put on airs for Slytherin, else he’ll be miserable. It isn’t even where he should’ve been sorted, but he wanted to make his father happy.” That was what had started the teasing about houses, when Scorpius had confessed once that he’d convinced the hat to put him in Slytherin. “He’s not actually like that at all.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Rose put her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. “Oh, you are getting—”

“Do we have to talk about it?” Al scowled, hand falling to touch where his belly had grown. “How am I going to hide it when I’m not in robes? I have plenty of jumpers, but it’s starting to get warm, and everyone will wonder why I’m still wearing wool.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Rose said firmly. “I’ll research glamours. You can’t polyjuice. And oh—” Her mouth fell open in a worried expression. “Your Apparition lessons? Have you been going?”

“I’ve been skiving off,” Al admitted. “They think I’m terrified of splinching myself. Which is true. But since we made sure that I’m pregnant, I haven’t gone. I don’t know if I can do it safely or not, and since I’m not all that good at it, I figured best if I don’t.”

Rose nodded. “That’ll be suspicious. You’re the only one in our year not anxious to get your license as soon as you can.”

He smiled wryly. “I’ll find a way to sort it. I don’t turn seventeen until June anyway. By then, I’ll just need to put off the testing a few months, until the baby’s born.”

“You’re still planning on keeping it?”

“I’m still planning on having it,” Albus said firmly. “I’ll figure out the rest later. This is _my_ baby.”


	5. Chapter 5

Albus made it through Charms without even glancing at Scorpius. This would be simpler if Scor weren’t so intelligent, and taking as many NEWT level classes as Albus. In fact, it was that similarity of schedule that had brought them together, as they’d worked on homework and revisions in the early days of the year.

Dinner after was strained. Albus pushed his food around on the plate while Rose chattered and their friends were concerned for his health, but sitting far away in case it was contagious. No one wanted to get a stomach bug, after all. He stood early, pushing his plate away as pudding was delivered to the table. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit.” He tried to give Rose a reassuring smile, but there wasn’t much he could manage before he slipped from the room.

“Mr. Potter.”

His steps slowed and he turned. “Professor Patil. I’ll have the work in for Transfiguration tomorrow, I promise. I was just going to go work on it now.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She caught up with him, giving him that sweet smile that had most of the other boys in his dormitory fancying their new head of house. When he’d commented on it over the holidays, his father had laughed, and said that the Patil twins were the prettiest girls in Hogwarts once upon a time. Al could believe it.

He followed along, back into Ravenclaw, and to the private office she maintained as head of the house. As soon as he stepped inside he felt the privacy wards settle over his skin, like being wrapped in a warm comforting blanket. It made him smile. “How do you do that? It’s like coming home.”

“Everyone deserves to have some place to go that’s comfortable,” she said, motioning to the comfortable chairs. “Go on, sit. I’ll get some tea started.”

“I don’t need tea,” Albus protested.

“You need this tea,” Professor Patil countered. “Trust me on this, Mr. Potter, it will make you feel better.”

Al sank into the seat, slumping down. “Would it be awful if I asked you to call me Albus, Professor Patil? Every time you say Mr. Potter, I think I’m in trouble.”

She brought over a mug that steamed and tapped it with a tea timer spell that Albus recognized from his grandmother’s house. “You are in trouble,” she said quietly as she took the seat opposite him. “I don’t need my sister’s crystal ball to see that; you made it quite plain during class, Albus. And I think you’ll feel better if you have a chance to talk about it.”

Talking seemed impossible. His throat was dry, closing off, and there were no words in his head. Every word he’d ever learned had fled, leaving him without language, and not in a pleasant way, either. “I—” he tried, then closed his mouth, shaking his head. “Um. What is it you thought I said?”

Her smile was kind. “You and young Mr. Malfoy generally work together in class, but until I paired you with him today, you have been avoiding him these last few weeks. You argued about that very fact today, quite loudly. He seems to believe you’ve broken off your relationship, and you seem to believe that was his fault entirely. I’m not going to judge your relationship, Albus. If you happen to prefer boys rather than girls, that is entirely your business. But if you are having any sort of deeper relationship with Mr. Malfoy, then I’d like you to know that you can talk to me about anything you might need in order to ensure that you are safe about it.”

Albus blinked several times. “Professor Patil—” Words failed him again. He wrestled through several things he could possibly say, wondering if she knew just how far things had gone already. “Are you giving me a lecture on safe sex?” he finally managed.

“If that’s what you need, I have several books available for you to read.” At his surprised look, she laughed. “We are Ravenclaws, Albus. Books are always available. My concern, however, is that you may have gone beyond what you can find in a book already.”

He winced, taking her words like a sucker punch to the gut. Breath shuddered as he looked away, staring at the floor. “I—”

The tea chimed, and for a moment it distracted him, letting him take the basket of leaves out and set it carefully aside. He lifted the cup and inhaled, tasting the scent of it. “Ginger,” he decided. “And lemon. And something sweet.”

“Apples,” she said. “It’s a blend my friend Lavender made for my sister. She gave me some for when I travel, because Apparition is never kind to my stomach, but she originally devised it to help with pregnancy.”

Albus nearly choked on his first sip, the sweet/sour/spicy liquid going up his nose until he coughed.

Professor Patil waited until he was able to look at her before she asked, “How long, Albus? And how long have you known?”

“Are you going to tell my parents?” he blurted. “Because if you do, then I’m going to be in horrid trouble.”

“I have to.” Her expression was gentle, but Albus didn’t find it reassuring as she continued, “You’re not seventeen yet, and I’m your head of house. I can’t keep something like this a secret.”

“Could you if it was just me and Scor having sex?”

“Is it?”

Albus felt trapped under her regard, stomach clenching until he took a sip of the tea. Which was wonderful tea. It filled him with warmth and comfort, settling his stomach and putting him at ease. He slowly shook his head. “It isn’t just sex,” he said quietly. “Seventeen weeks. I’m due end of August. I didn’t even know I could get pregnant.”

She nodded. “I’m going to ask your parents to come in for Hogsmeade in two weeks, so that gives you time to get things in order and tell the folks you want to tell first. And to make decisions that you need to make.”

“I think I’ve already made them,” he said quietly. “It’s too late to do anything about it, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. I’m just not sure what’s going to happen after the baby’s born.”

It was getting easier to talk about each time it came up. The baby was a fact, and one that wasn’t going away. Albus had to deal with that, and each person that found out without completely ruining his life over it was a help down that road. But the big problem still to come, aside from his parents, was Scorpius. And he wasn’t sure how he wanted to deal with that, or if he was ready for it.

“When you’ve decided, or if you want to talk further about it, I’m here,” Professor Patil said gently. “For what it’s worth, you’re not the first student at Hogwarts to turn up pregnant, and I’m quite certain you won’t be the last. The administration will be as circumspect as we can, but we can’t simply ignore the fact that you’re expecting.”

“Am I going to lose points for it?” It seemed an odd thing to ask, but it was better than asking if he’d be expelled, or simply not allowed to return in the fall.

“No. But any other decisions aren’t mine to make.” 

She motioned to the tea, and he drank the rest of it, realizing he liked the taste of it. “Thank you,” he said. For the tea, for the conversation. For everything he had to go process now.

She stood to take the cups away for cleaning. “You’re welcome, Mr. Potter. And may I suggest you be back by curfew tonight?”

And just like that, Al knew that she had known all along that he snuck out. He flushed brightly, figuring she’d already guessed most of the story, except for the pregnancy. “I will, Professor Patil,” he assured her.

“Mr. Potter.” She looked at him from across the room, brown eyes kind and smile pretty. “You are almost an adult, and in fact, many of your friends already are. I am not going to tell you what to do, or how to do it at this point in your life. But I will recommend that you take care in your choices, and think before you act.” She nodded at the table, and Albus glanced down to see a book sitting there, a slender volume. “You may borrow that. I’ll expect it back when you’re through.”

He picked it up, and flushed again to read the spine: _So You Think You’re Ready: One Hundred Reasons Not To, and Ten Ways To Protect Yourself When You Do._ “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course, Mr. Potter. Now go.”

And he did, leaving her office and immediately going out of Ravenclaw. There was only one place he wanted to be right then.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a space at the top of the Astronomy tower where Albus could sit with his back against the wall and look up at the sky. It was out of the way if someone climbed the stairs, almost a nook but not quite. He had stayed there, sometimes, when others came up to observe the stars, letting him observe the people in turn.

And this was where Scorpius found him, knowing exactly where to look.

Al glanced up at the footsteps, then leaned his head back against the wall once more. He didn’t watch as Scorpius lowered himself to sit, didn’t move when shoulder met shoulder, leaning as if nothing had ever changed between them.

“I’m still angry with you,” Albus said quietly. “You told me to get rid of the baby.”

“I panicked.” Scorpius stared up at the sky as well. “Didn’t you panic? How were you so calm about it?”

“I’d been thinking about it for a while before I got confirmation,” Al admitted. “I’d had some time to get used to the idea, even though I’d hoped it wasn’t true. I didn’t even know things worked like that. Dad didn’t exactly include it when he gave me the talk about sex. We didn’t even talk about the idea of being gay. It’s going to be a shock for him.” He rolled his head against the wall, glancing over at Scorpius. “Your folks don’t know, do they?”

“That I’m gay? No.” Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Can you imagine my father’s reaction? He’d say it’s not _proper_. He probably picked out my wife when I was born, even though _nobody_ does that anymore.”

Albus made a small noise, not sure whether he was agreeing with Scorpius or commiserating with him. All he knew was that the shoulder against his was warm and familiar, and for the first time that day he felt like things were right in the world. He slid his hand over, let his fingers tangle with Scorpius, heart waiting to beat until Scor squeezed his fingers back.

“Professor Patil was listening when we argued today,” he said. “She figured it all out, and she has to tell my folks. Which means it’ll be all over school soon enough. They’ll be coming for Hogsmeade.”

“They can wait that long?” Scorpius seemed dubious about that, and it made Albus laugh, thinking of his Mum having that much patience.

“No, she’s not going to tell them until they visit. She’s just going to suggest they come out for the visit,” Al explained. “But the thing is, once they know, they’ll have to know about you, too. I can’t lie about it.”

“I don’t want you to.” Scorpius’ eyes closed, his jaw tense. 

Al wanted to kiss his jaw until it relaxed, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to start kissing Scor again just yet. Instead he tilted his head against Scorpius’ shoulder, fingers squeezing his comfortably. There wasn’t any need to talk or do anything, was there?

“I don’t know what to do about it,” Scorpius said softly. “My father’s likely to have a fit. It’ll be a scandal. First that we’re involved at all, and then that I’ve gotten you pregnant. There’s no way to hide something like this.”

Albus pulled Scorpius hand to his stomach, sliding it under his shirt to feel the rounded skin there. “It’s already getting harder to hide it from my roommates,” he admitted as Scorpius spread his fingers over his skin. “By the time the year’s over, it’ll be nearly impossible unless I’m in robes, and they’ll wonder if I try to wear robes all the time. I’m not the overly proper sort like you.” He grinned at Scor’s dark look, and gave into impulse, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He sighed when Scorpius caught him by the nape of the neck, dragging him back for a proper snog. “There are people who need babies,” Scorpius murmured. “We could find one of those. They’d love to raise him, I’m sure.”

Albus tried to ignore the twist in his stomach at the idea of giving their baby away. But Scorpius was right, there was no way to raise him, not and still finish his education. Not and be whatever it was he was supposed to be when Hogwarts was done. But he pushed off the thought, knowing he could look at it again later. “So sure it’s a _him_ then?” he teased.

Scorpius drew back. “Malfoys haven’t had a female child in over six generations,” he said seriously. “One son, nothing more. Enough to continue, not enough to dilute the line. I’ve been reminded of my duty for a long time. And my father has tried. It was bad enough to make my mother cry; she was so sure it was her fault that she couldn’t deliver him another child. A spare, perhaps, or a daughter for her own comfort. I think a Malfoy would have to marry a Weasley to have more than one.”

Al couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up at that, no matter how inappropriate the thought. “You realize, Scor, you’ve been shagging a Weasley.”

Scorpius blinked, then flushed. “I hadn’t actually thought of it that way, but your mum _is_ a Weasley, isn’t she?”

A nod. “Which means we’re going to need to be careful, when it matters again.” Albus flushed warmly. “I’ve got a book on contraceptive measures for gay blokes. We’ll have to read through it, learn what we need to know. It doesn’t seem terribly hard. Likely similar to what blokes need to do to not get a girl pregnant, I’m thinking.” He didn’t know what embarrassed him more: the fact that he’d been reading up on this, or the idea that he was talking about having a baby and being together after it had all happened.

He didn’t want to think that far ahead. Didn’t want to think about where they’d be after the rollercoaster of having a baby was done. Al’s gaze dropped to look at the floor, and Scorpius gathered him in, hand at his back, rubbing light circles. 

“Sounds like you ought to loan me those books,” Scorpius said.

“I don’t think we need to worry about any of it just yet, but I will,” Albus promised.

Scorpius drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly before he spoke. “Why don’t we go get it now? If you’re done enough with it that I can take a turn reading it.”

“I haven’t even started…” Albus’ voice trailed off. “Wait. Are you saying you want to—”

Walk through the castle together. Study more together. Sit close, touch. Kiss. Be seen doing things. Not fight to cover what they meant to one another. It all flitted through Albus’ mind so quickly it left him staring, open-mouthed, at Scorpius.

Who only smiled and kissed his lips closed. “It’s coming out soon enough,” Scorpius said. “We might as well do as much damage control as we can. It’ll be less of a shock if the school recognizes us as a couple.”

“I love you.” Albus sank into the kiss, wanting more, and right then, _needing_ more. He knew they were young, knew they weren’t supposed to fall in love forever, but he couldn’t imagine going through this without Scorpius by his side. He shifted to straddle Scorpius, nudging his nose, then kissing him again. They’d have to go downstairs soon enough, and be seen soon enough. Right now he wanted to celebrate this moment with his boyfriend and a nice long snog.


	7. Chapter 7

For two weeks, Albus Severus Potter thought life was perfect. The first few days weren’t easy, as rumours buzzed around the school about him and Scorpius. There were arguments with their friends, and Scorpius fought with Zabini before things smoothed out. Once everyone realized that nothing was going to change, the gossip mill moved on to the next interesting story (Greta Jones and her chipmunk teeth that wouldn’t stop growing) and left them alone.

For two weeks, Al was able to walk down the hall with his hand in Scorpius’ hand. He was able to kiss him in the hallways (as long as a Prefect wasn’t paying attention), and he was able to spend most of his waking moments with him.  They were able to act like any other dating couple.

Then Hogsmeade weekend arrived, and with it, the Potters and the Malfoys.

Albus was in the middle of breakfast, trying to eat quickly while at the same time writing notes on an assignment he wanted to finish before going to Hogsmeade. He felt someone take the chair next to him and turned with a smile, assuming it would be Scorpius. Lily hunched over, leaning in, whispering, “Al, why are Mum and Dad here? I didn’t do anything. I swear it. Was it James?”

There they were, talking to the Headmistress for a moment before greeting Professor Patil fondly. Albus flushed. “Um. Don’t worry. They’re here to talk to me.”

“Oh!” Lily hugged him hard. “Well, that’s brilliant then! Congratulations, whatever it is, because I’m certain you deserve it. You’ve always been the smartest of us.”

“It’s not an award, Lil.” He couldn’t look up, couldn’t look at her at all. “It’s um—I did something. And Professor Patil has to tell them. So here they are.”

Lily’s eyes widened slowly. “Did you cheat on an exam?”

“No.” Albus huffed a sigh. “It’s not about schoolwork.”

“Is it because you’re shagging Scorpius Malfoy?”

Al’s cheeks flamed as James joined them, framing his question so bluntly as he settled in on Al’s other side. “Something like that,” he muttered.

“You ought to tell us first, you know,” James said quietly. “It’s rotten you don’t trust your own brother and sister enough to say when there’s something going on. We oughtn’t have to hear it through the rumor mill.”

Al pinched his eyes shut, mouth pursed as he fought off tears. He dragged in a ragged breath. “Fine.” He glanced around, making sure no one was near them, but the rest of Ravenclaw had given the Potter family a wide berth. “It’ll be coming out soon, anyway, since Mum never was the quiet sort.” He glanced from his sister to his brother, then decided that staring at his hands on the table was the best thing to do.

“I’m pregnant,” he whispered.

“Albus Severus Potter!” Lily pushed away from him to stand, her voice anything but quiet, shock writ clearly in her face. “I didn’t even know that was _possible_.”

Al reached out to grab her wrist, dragging her back down into her seat roughly. “Lily!” he hissed. “I know Mum’s likely to shout it just as loud, but do you think we could make some attempt to keep this between us? I don’t need the whole school staring at me like I’m some kind of a freak.” And they were already staring. He could see them, out of the corners of his eyes, glancing from the Potters to their plates, then to the Potter adults. A circular path of wondering looks. Al sighed and tried to ignore them.

“Do I need to go explain anything to Malfoy with my fists?” James asked mildly. “Because if I do—”

“No.” Al grabbed him now, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere to do any such thing. “I love him. This was just—we didn’t know. And it happened. And we’re… we’re doing the best we can with it.”

“What’re you going to do?”

He was saved from answering Lily by Professor Patil leading their parents over. By the fond smile his mother gave him, Albus knew she hadn’t been told a thing just yet. He stood up and hugged his mum, and nodded to his father, and when Professor Patil asked to speak with him, he followed along.

“Professor, is—”

“Later,” she interrupted. “His parents are arriving shortly.”

Ginny’s brow knit in a frown. “What is this about?” She moved when Harry nudged her into the room Professor Patil had provided, and Al waited until the door was closed and secured. He was relieved to see that Professor Patil had stayed with them. He didn’t think his parents would _hurt_ him, but it was nice to have someone else in the room to mediate.

Al waited until his parents sat, then stood uneasily, hands clenched at his sides. “Mum. Dad. I’m—I’m gay.”

He didn’t miss the way Harry glanced away, and his heart sank at what he felt had to be rejection. But Ginny only smiled and nodded. “We’ve received letters from James and Lily both, telling us that you’ve been dating Scorpius Malfoy these last few weeks. I can’t say we entirely approve of who you have chosen to date,” Ginny chose her words carefully, “but we do love you, and support you. You know you could have told us that yourself at any time, right?”

Albus couldn’t look at his father, at the disappointment he knew was there. That was why he’d stayed in the closet as long as he could, because coming out meant knowing he’d crushed something inside his dad. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he said, not able to meet his Mum’s gaze. He twisted his fingers together, sinking to lean against the arm of a chair. “James is the brave one. Lily’s the wily one. They get into trouble, but their trouble’s the sort that’ll make them heroes someday. I’m just the smart one, and it turns out, I’m not even as smart as I should be. I’ve read everything and I still—” he hesitated, but when it looked like Professor Patil would say something, he shook his head quickly. He wanted to do this himself. 

Al’s hands curled protectively over his abdomen, knowing things were about to get very very loud. “I’m pregnant,” he whispered, eyes closed as he braced for the recoil.

Silence.

He shivered, despite the warmth of the room. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see the expressions on his parents’ faces. He knew he’d been a disappointment. He’d ruined himself, ruined his life, ruined his chances at a good career. Ruined _everything_.

“Is that even possible?” Harry finally asked. Al risked opening one eye to peek, and saw his dad looking over at his mum, confused.

“Don’t you remember Great Great Great Uncle Damocles?” Ginny asked. “We were just talking about him, weren’t we?”

“I thought that was a story to keep gay blokes from having sex,” Harry said. “Like the bogey man.”

Ginny laughed, although the sound was thin. “Don’t let Luna hear you say that, or she’ll be bringing over every article ever written to refute the existence of the bogey man.”

Silence fell again and Albus kept his eyes tightly closed, waiting. He was afraid to speak, knowing that whatever he said, it would undoubtedly be the wrong thing.

“Malfoy’s the father.” Harry’s voice was flat. “Albus Severus Potter, open your eyes and look at us.”

Al blinked slowly. His father was serious, his mother’s expression was blank. He saw her clenched hands, twisting her fingers together with his father’s, and he knew she was holding it in.

“Could we get the part where you yell at me over with?” he asked quietly.

“Albus Severus Potter!” Ginny exploded, as if she’d just been waiting for him to pay attention. “How could you have done such a thing? You are too young to be even _thinking_ about having sex, let alone getting pregnant.”

“You were sixteen,” Harry said mildly. “On my birthday.”

She glared at him. “That’s beside the point. We were careful.”

“I would have been careful if I’d known, Mum,” Albus protested. He knew his father meant to be helpful, but he didn’t want any more details about his parents’ sex lives when they were teenagers, any more than he really wanted his parents knowing the details of his own. “I’m sorry. I know, I’ve ruined everything. I’ll do whatever—” He cut off abruptly, hands protective on his stomach as he leaned back. “No, I won’t do whatever you say. I’ve already decided, I’m having the baby.”

Ginny’s lips pressed together thinly. “And after that? Albus, be reasonable. You can’t have a child here at Hogwarts.”

“He wouldn’t be the first.”

Albus had almost forgotten Professor Patil’s presence, she had been so silent up until now. He blinked at her. “Recently?” he asked.

“Three times in the last fifty years,” she said with a smile. “Although one of those times brought four young mothers to Hogwarts with children, right after the war.”

Ginny flushed. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“There was one who finished up here a few years before we started, in 1989. Your brothers probably knew her,” Professor Patil pointed out. “Four girls gave birth during the year after the war, and continued to attend Hogwarts until finishing their education. And one more since; she completed her education about eight years ago. It is not unprecedented, but it is highly unusual.”

“But it’s possible.” Albus had to know. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he needed to be sure of the possibilities. After all, he still had months to decide.

“It is indeed possible,” Professor Patil said. “And I’ve already spoken to the Headmistress, just in case.”

Al flushed at the idea that Headmistress McGonagall knew, and Professor Patil laughed and informed him, “By now, Mr. Potter, I’m quite certain that she’s seen everything.”

“Gin?” Harry spoke softly. “Why don’t you yell and stop trying to break my hand.”

So she did, and Albus cringed, wondering how much was audible outside of the room. He waited until she ran out of steam and ended in tears, hugging him and promising everything would be all right, that they’d figure out what to do.

Albus wasn’t sure if it actually made anything better, but when all was said and done, at least he was sure that he had his parents on his side, and they’d promised not to bully him into any decisions. Harry hugged him as they were about to leave, and spoke quietly, “I know you think you’ve disappointed me, but you haven’t. James is like my father, and somewhat like the boy I was in school. You’re the boy I might’ve been, and I will always love you, no matter what.”

And that meant more to Al than anything else that had been said that day. He hugged his father back, quick and hard. “Thanks, Dad.”


	8. Chapter 8

Harry and Ginny left before Albus made his way into Hogsmeade with Rose. When he caught her gaze lingering on one of their classmates, he sent her off with a laugh, assuring her he’d be fine. Besides, he was looking for Scorpius, worried that he hadn’t seen him yet. He wandered through Hogsmeade alone, catching glances from others, but no one came up to talk to him. He wondered if they talked about him in whispers, and decided he didn’t care. He couldn’t care, not if he was going to get through this, and he’d find out who his friends were when he knew who supported him.

He was standing looking in the window of the sweet shop, hands pressed against the small of his back, when he heard footsteps coming close. He closed his eyes and arched his back, trying to take some pressure off, and figuring the steps would go on by. When they slowed and stopped next to him, he opened his eyes and looked over.

“I’ve been disowned.” Scorpius stood with hands in pockets, back stiff and proud. “Or I will be, by the time they reach home, I’m certain. I believe they intend to stop off at the solicitor along the way.”

“For being gay?” Albus couldn’t believe that even Draco Malfoy could be that cruel.

“For getting you up the duff,” Scorpius countered. “The fact that I’m gay and that their only grandchild will be a Potter was enough to force the decision, I believe. His exact statement was _no Potter will be a part of the Malfoy family tree._ Thus, I can no longer be a Malfoy.” He shrugged one shoulder. “C’est la vie.”

“I’m sorry.” Al slid his arm around him, leaning against him, eyes closed. Another person he’d let down and disappointed, which seemed to be everyone he knew lately.

“I’ll be fine,” Scorpius assured him, which didn’t help. They were sixteen, both turning seventeen that summer. Al knew that if his parents didn’t come around, Scorpius could be out on his own as soon as he reached the age of majority.

“You know you’re always welcome at my place, right?”

Scorpius frowned. “It won’t come to that. He might strike me from the tree, but he wouldn’t put his own blood out on the doorstep and risk someone noticing his abuse. We must keep up appearances after all.”

“I think you’re underestimating the effect of our scandal on his social life,” Al said quietly. He’d heard stories all his life about the Malfoys, both Scorpius’ father and his grandfather, and while he’d lay down his life for Scor, he didn’t trust his relatives at all. “Just promise you won’t forget.”

Scorpius looked over at him, frown melting into a slow smile. “I promise,” he said, brushing a kiss against Albus’ lips.

“Well, isn’t this sweet.”

Al pulled away, stopping when Scorpius grabbed his arm and shook his head. They turned together to see the three Slytherins in the street, only a few feet away. “Mario,” Scorpius said, inclining his head slightly.

“Did I see your father here?” Mario asked, arms crossed. “Any chance he’s bringing in the funding for the new Quidditch gear?”

Scorpius gave him a bland smile. “No, it was simply a family visit.”

“Interesting that you’ve both received visits in the same day.”

Albus pushed his way forward, poking Zabini in the chest. “Look, you can just leave off. It doesn’t affect you that Scor and I are dating. He doesn’t have any designs on your arse, and I’m not sullying your dank dungeon space. So just get out of here and leave us alone.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Potter.” Zabini looked past Albus as if he weren’t even there. “Malfoy, you know where you belong.”

“I should have been sorted Ravenclaw.” Scorpius’ tone was flat. Harsh. “For the last six years you have been a complete asshole to everyone you think is below you and I’ve gone along with it, because I have to fit in if I want to survive in our dorm. I’m done. I don’t care about Slytherin, and I don’t care about society.”

“You should be proud of your heritage!” Zabini snapped. “We’re not mutts like some people—”

“I don’t care about bloodlines!” Scorpius yelled, shoving Zabini back. “I can’t be _proud_ of something so inherently _rotten_! You just want to think you’re better than other people, but you’re not. You’re not _better_ because you’re a pureblood. You’d be better if you were smarter. Stronger. But _blood doesn’t matter_.”

“Stop!” Albus forced himself between the two, knowing Scorpius wouldn’t try anything with him there. But he wasn’t banking on Mario, and the right hook caught him across the jaw, snapping his head back and making him see stars. He stumbled into Scorpius’ arms. “Fuck…” He raised one hand, pressing it to his jaw, wondering if that would stop his ears from ringing.

The other boys seemed frozen, Scorpius glaring as he knelt, helping Albus sit down on the ground.

“You going to go whine to your father, Malfoy?”

“No.” Scorpius smiled, all sharp teeth and bite. “I’m going to remind you that we share a room, and you have to sleep. And if you ever touch Albus or any of his family again, I will make certain that everything important to you shrivels to the size of a raisin.”

“You can’t.” Zabinie’s jaw set.

One eyebrow rose as Scorpius replied, “Do you really want to find out?”

One of the other boys touched Zabini’s shoulder, and the three left together.

“I’m fine,” Al said, before Scorpius could ask. “Bruised, probably, but I’ll be all right. I’m more worried about you going back into that room.”

“They won’t touch me. They don’t know I’m disowned, and they wouldn’t risk pissing off my father. Not if they ever want to show their faces in society again.”

“What about you?”

Scorpius helped him to his feet, smoothing down his robes, hand lingering on the bump beneath. “I don’t care,” he said. “Life’s a bit too odd to care about the society pages right now.”

Albus could understand that sentiment, not that he’d ever cared about them to begin with. But life was complicated, and he had far more important things to worry about. Like the baby. And whether his boyfriend was going to make it safely through the year.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the school year ended, Albus was more than ready for it to be over. Word about his pregnancy had slipped out, and people gave him a wide berth, as if they thought it might be contagious. He entered his third trimester in May, and felt huge as a house, the baby bulging outward on his narrow frame. Scorpius kept close to him when they were in the halls, carrying things, getting doors, doting on him no matter how much Albus tried to tell him to stuff it, that he was fine.

Truth was, he didn’t mind being doted on. And if Scorpius were with him, Al didn’t have to worry about Scor’s roommates.

It didn’t stop things from happening—like the time Scorpius arrived for breakfast with a black eye, and Zabini and his cohorts sported freshly shaved heads with _arse_ written in purple on the side—but it did make it more difficult. Al noticed that every moment he didn’t have to be in the dorm, Scor tended to be with him and Rose, but he didn’t say a word about it.

And soon enough, June arrived, and with it, the Hogwarts Express. Scorpius, Al, Rose, and James took over one compartment, enjoying the trip back, right until they arrived in the station. Al glanced out the window and saw his parents waiting, waving as Rose leaned out the window to shout a hello. And off to one side, carefully separate from all others, were the Malfoys.

Scorpius carried Al’s things off the train while Al made his way carefully down the steps. At the base, they were met by Harry and Ginny, who greeted Al with kisses, and a firm handshake for Scorpius.

Al didn’t want to let go. He wouldn’t see Scorpius until the fall—his parents had banned him from all social activities, including visits. And Al wasn’t even sure what would happen when fall came. One hand stayed tangled with Scorpius, the other rested lightly on his well-rounded belly.

“I’ll come see you,” Scorpius said, leaning in to kiss him. Al reached up, wanting to hold him there and linger over it, but Scorpius pulled back too quickly, a mask falling into his expression.

“Your father is waiting.”

When had Mrs. Malfoy joined them? Albus gave her a startled look, taking in her pinched expression and dark eyes, hair pulled back, neat and soft as it curled around her face. If it weren’t for the fury, she’d have been a pretty woman. But Albus couldn’t like her, simply for how she treated Scorpius.

“Why?” Scorpius asked. “It’s not like you actually want me to come home.”

“You are a Malfoy,” she said stiffly. “And you are our son. You will come home to be cared for properly.”

And _re-educated_ , Albus mentally supplied, suspecting that Scorpius would spend the summer hearing everything he was supposed to be doing. He kissed him once more quickly. “I’ll see you in the fall,” he promised, watching as Scorpius was led away.

“Hello, Astoria. It’s always _such_ a pleasure to see you, Astoria. How am I? Oh fine, of course, dear. Thank you for asking.”

Harry laughed as Ginny spoke to the empty air where Astoria had been, only laughing harder when she made a face and commented that the least the Malfoys could do was recognize that the two families were now attached.

After that, the summer passed slowly. Albus couldn’t do anything fun or interesting. He owled back and forth with his mates, hearing about each one who received their apparition license and the places they’d decided to go for the holiday. Rose came to visit for a week, keeping him company and helping him with cooling spells.

He tried sending owls to Scorpius, but they all returned unanswered, even the gift he sent on Scorpius’ birthday in July. Although Albus tried to hide it, he was sinking into a desperate low, frustrated by his bulk, the heat, and the constant movement of his child.

“It’s like having a kneazle on your belly, all the time,” he muttered. “Won’t bloody well settle down. I try sleeping, and it wakes up and decides to do somersaults while kicking my bladder. I’m peeing three times a night.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” James reminded him.

Albus just gave him a look. “Yes, I did. You’d do the same.”

“I don’t know,” James admitted.

It was mid-July, and the hottest day so far this year. Albus was lying out in the backyard, staring up at the clouds, belly pointed skywards while James sat next to him. They were laughing, James pointing out rude cloud formations, when footsteps interrupted.

“You could get us a lemonade,” Al suggested, assuming it was his sister and hoping Lily would do just that. He was thirsty, and didn’t want to get up to get anything himself.

“Your mum actually sent me out with juice.”

Al rolled over, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet as quickly as he could. He threw his arms around Scorpius, just barely missing the glasses that were handed off quickly to James.  “Scor!” He burrowed in close. “Bloody hell, I’ve missed you. What’re you doing here? Did your parents finally decide to let you go visiting your friends?”

Scorpius smiled thinly. “Not exactly. I received my apparition license on Monday, and when I arrived home, the elves had already packed my things. It appears I am no longer wanted at Malfoy Manor.”

“It’s Thursday,” Albus pointed out. He flashed James a look, grateful when his brother set down the glasses and faded into the background. He wanted time alone with Scorpius, and he didn’t want Scor to feel uncomfortable talking about anything. “Where’ve you been since then?”

“A few different places.” Scorpius tugged Al’s shoulder, and the two sat down together, Scor’s arm around Al’s shoulder. “I visited the Bells, since I still got on with Maggie, but then Zabini threatened to break it off with her sister if they helped me, so I had to leave. It’s not worth screwing up their relationships because society’s rejected me. I spent one night at the Thomas’ but I’d never quite realized just what it meant to have seven siblings. They didn’t actually have room for me, so I went wandering last night, and ended up spending it on the beach. And now here I am.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” Albus assured him.

“Your parents have already said as much,” Scorpius admitted. “Your mum’s the hugging sort. I think she hugged me three times from doorstep to kitchen, then twice more before I came outside. _Poor duck_ was said twice, and I think she threatened to castrate my father once, although I only heard your father’s outraged reaction so I’m making an assumption what was actually said.” His hand fell to rest against Al’s belly, slipping under the shirt and pressing against the child.

Albus winced as the child shifted and moved to press back at his father. “He’s getting quite large,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through another six weeks of this. Why do people do this voluntarily?”

Scorpius’ hand stilled against his skin. “Have you decided to give it up then?” he asked softly, sounding remote. “You don’t sound happy at all.”

“I’m not,” Al groused. “I’m huge as a blue whale, and I’m carrying another child inside of me and I’m barely ready to be an adult myself. My birthday’s in a week, and I just want to go back to being eleven and knowing the Hogwarts Express is coming for the first time, and everything’s going to be brilliant. Instead I’m dreading that everyone’s going to go back without me, because I’ll have given birth only a few days before. And I don’t know yet if they’ll even let me come back this year, or if I’ll have to take the whole year off because I’ll be missing the first month. This was a stupid idea, and if I’d figured out I was pregnant sooner, I could’ve—”

Scorpius silenced him with a kiss, and for a moment, everything was right in Al’s world in ways it hadn’t been for far too long. He clung to his boyfriend, losing himself in that contact, in knowing he’d found the one person who meant everything to him. No matter how many lectures his parents gave him about childhood loves, he knew that he was like his father, and his grandfather before them. Albus had found his lifemate while at Hogwarts, and didn’t ever want to let him go.

“Better?” Scorpius asked

Al pulled back, blinking, trying to read whatever it was that hid behind Scorpius pale-grey gaze. He wasn’t used to Scor dissembling with him, not since they’d become a couple, and it unnerved him to see those walls between them. “Much better, now that you’re here,” he said quietly. He framed his face with his hands, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “Everything all right, Scor?”

Al felt the smile against his mouth. “I hope so,” Scorpius murmured. “And if it isn’t, I’ll make sure it is. You do know I love you, Al, right?”

With a happy sigh, Albus burrowed into Scorpius’ arms, wrapping them around himself like a comforting blanket. “I do. And I love you too, Scor.” And right then that was what he needed most of all.


	10. Chapter 10

Albus wasn’t sure if his parents _approved_ of his relationship with Scorpius, but after the first few days, life in the Potter household seemed to settle into something of a routine, at least. Scorpius was given the guest room, but after the second time Ginny caught him coming out of Al’s room in the morning to sneak back to his own, she yelled and relented. After all, they couldn’t get into any worse trouble at this point. And Albus was relieved. For the first time in months, he was sleeping well, in the circle of Scor’s arms, their hands pressed together against his giant belly.

All was well until one night Albus woke, gripped in the depths of pain so terrible he cried out, clenching at Scor’s hand, body curling protectively around his stomach. “Merlin,” he hissed, panting until the pain faded.

“Al—”

“It’s coming.” He couldn’t find any words other than that, panic creeping into his tone, bright and sharp. “Merlin, Scor, it’s coming. I don’t know what to do, and it hurts, and it’s going to kill me, isn’t it? Boys aren’t meant to do this. We’re too young. I’m too small. I’m going to _die_.”

“Shh.” Scorpius rubbed his belly, kissed his shoulder quietly. “You’re smarter than that, Al, and you’ve read every book we could find on it, and you know you’re not going to die. But we do need to get you to St. Mungo’s quickly, since the baby’s awfully early.”

Al’s grip shifted, clinging to Scorpius’ fingers. “Do you remember what they said about _how_ early a baby can safely be born?” It was as if every bit of knowledge he’d ever known had fled in the face of the pain. “It’s almost four weeks. It can’t be good this early, can it? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Al, but I need you to let go of me, just for a moment.” Scorpius carefully slipped his fingers free, then pulled the covers back. “You get yourself dressed and I’ll go get your parents and we’ll get a few things packed and get to hospital, all right?”

“Right.” Albus stumbled from the bed, searching for a shirt to pull on with his pyjama bottoms. He didn’t think he really wanted to be wearing anything more than that. Maybe slippers. It was hot outside, at least.

He sat down roughly, doubling over as the pain came again, screaming. They’d said it would hurt, but he hadn’t thought it would feel like he was breaking apart. There was supposed to be some magic involved, some way of getting the baby out safely, but he was beginning to think that wouldn’t happen. That they’d come in here and find him in shreds.

“Come on.” Hands tucked under his elbows, lifting him. James braced him on the one side, Scor on the other. Lily brought up the rear, still shoving clothes into a bag, while Harry got the fire ready and Ginny grabbed the Floo powder.

“We’ll get you there,” Scorpius murmured. “And you’ll be fine. I promise.”

For the next several hours, Albus truly wasn’t sure of that. The wee hours of the morning came and went, with light dawning outside and Albus seeing it all through a haze of pain. James had fled to the waiting room, and Lily fluttered about, bringing drinks and snacks to those who could have them. But Harry and Ginny sat on one side of Albus, and Scorpius sat glued to his other side, refusing to let go or move while the healers worked and Albus tried to survive labor.

The spellwork was complicated, aiding an already exhausted body not designed for birth, coaxing it into pushing forth a small, squalling child. It was well into the evening by the time Albus lay limp and exhausted, unable to open his eyes, listening to the sound of his son’s cries.

“I can see him,” Scorpius murmured, still holding onto Al’s hand. “He looks utterly perfect, although terribly small. They’re letting your mum hold him, and she’s got that look some women get. Besotted, really. Even your dad looks proud.”

“I want to see him.” Albus tried to get an elbow under himself, failing when his limbs felt made of jelly and collapsed beneath him. Scorpius smiled, brushing Al’s hair back from his eyes, and helped him sit up, propping the pillows to give him something to lean against.

“Here you go, one perfect baby boy.” The healer laid him against Al’s chest, and Al’s hands came up to hold him awkwardly. “We’ve checked him out and he’s breathing just fine, for all that he’s early, so you’ll be able to take him home on time. Would you like to spend a little time with him?”

Al stopped listening at the words _take him home_. He looked at Scorpius, clear panic in his gaze, and Scorpius stepped in to say, “Yes, we would. If you’d give us a moment.”

The healer ushered the rest of the Potters from the room, leaving Albus, Scorpius, and their small son. Scorpius touched the baby’s lips with his pinky finger, and smiled when the wee one started to suckle on it as if it were a bottle. “I think he’s hungry.”

“Scor? What are we going to do now?” Albus stared at the baby and Scorpius, watching how _intent_ his boyfriend was on their son. “We can’t—I mean—Merlin, what do we _do_? I’m only sixteen. I can’t have a _baby_. I can’t finish my education and carry a baby around at the same time and deal with nappies and feedings and what if he poops in the middle of Potions? Or Charms? Professor Finnigan would have my head if I stopped everything to just whip out a clean nappy and start changing him then and there.”

“We can do it,” Scorpius said quietly, still focused on their son. “He’s ours, Albus, and he deserves to be loved. I want to be a good father, and I can’t just give him away. If you don’t want him, I do. And I’ll fight you for that.” His fingers brushed over the surprisingly bushy shock of dark hair, tinged with russet, that topped the baby’s head. “He’s important, and he deserves to be loved.”

“What if love isn’t enough?” Albus couldn’t imagine going through something that had to be as painful as this every day. Couldn’t imagine loving a child so much that he’d be constantly terrified that something might happen. That something might go wrong. What if Albus stayed up too late studying and couldn’t wake up for the morning bottle? What if he fell asleep in the library? What if—

“It’s enough,” Scorpius said firmly. “It will be. You’re brilliant, Al, and I’m resourceful, and we love each other and we’ll love _him_ and he’ll always know that. And he’ll want to please us, not because he has to earn something from us, but because he knows we already adore him.”

Tired as he was, Albus still heard the hurt in Scorpius’ voice, the pain that his own parents had caused him with their distance over the years. “We’re too young to get married,” he pointed out. “I’m sixteen still.”

Scorpius snorted softly. “You haven’t been sixteen since midnight,” he countered with a smile. “Have you been so busy today that you’ve forgotten it was your birthday?”

Albus blinked. “It is? Oh bloody hell, it is, isn’t it? Well then…” he laughed. “I guess this is my present then, isn’t it? But still—”

“We’ll be promised,” Scorpius said firmly. “We’ll get married later, when we’re done with Hogwarts, and when we’re sure we’re good together. We’ll talk to the Headmistress. I’ve already sent her a letter, petitioning for private quarters for us and our son.”

“You were that sure of me?” Albus said. He was starting to understand Scorpius’ fascination as the baby stared back at him, all wide pale eyes and trust.

“I was that sure of _us_.”

There was a knock at the door, and Scorpius called for them to come in. Lily pushed the door open first, moving quickly to their side with a squeal of delight. James followed, with Harry and Ginny not far behind. And lingering in the door after were two others Al hadn’t expected to see at all.

Scorpius went still beside him, moving in closer to Albus protectively. “Mum. Dad,” he said quietly.

Ginny pressed a warmed bottle into Al’s hand, and he carefully gave it to his son, ignoring the Malfoy interlopers in favor of focusing on his small family instead. But he felt them approach, felt their cool regard as they stood behind Scorpius.

“He’s beautiful,” Astoria murmured.

“Of course he is! Albus and Scorpius couldn’t make anything but a beautiful baby!” Lily offered a small glare.

“And he’s our grandson,” Draco said stiffly.

“I thought I was disowned.” Al felt Scorpius go tense, his tone dry but hopeful. “I thought I wasn’t a Malfoy anymore.”

“We were wrong.” Astoria spoke, Draco completely silent. Albus had a feeling Draco didn’t agree. But Al saw that look in Astoria’s eyes, that bending of her exterior calm as she smiled at the baby. When Ginny glanced over at her, Astoria smiled back.

It was funny what being a grandmum could do to a person, Albus guessed.

“We’re going back to Hogwarts,” Scorpius said in a rush, as if someone were going to say no. “We’ve petitioned for a room, and we’re going to finish our education together.”

A strained silence, before Harry nodded. “It sounds as if you’ve thought this through”

“Scor has,” Albus admitted. “I’ve been a bit too busy panicking.”

“Entirely understandable.” Ginny patted his arm. “Pregnancy does funny things to the mind.”

“What’s his name?” Lily asked, leaning in close.

“Caelum,” Scorpius said, at the same moment as Albus replied, “I was thinking Harry.”

The two smiled at each other. “Caelum Harry,” Al decided. “That way he can be named like a Malfoy, but still be named for my dad.”

“Cae for short,” Lily decided.

Caelum. Cae. Caelum Harry Potter-Malfoy.

Albus smiled, watching his son fall asleep while suckling at his bottle. Everything was going to be all right.


End file.
